It's eerie, very reticent, lull. And all I can hear are the hushed shallow breaths I'm managing to take in.
My ears beg to differ with the way my heart threatens to beat right out of my chest. The owls hooting above sends a trail of goosebumps on my arm, but that's a lie.
Because, it was always there. Right from the moment the guards dragged me out of my home. Dylan — of course — tried to out-man them but when his eyes met mine, filled with faint hearted softness, he let go.
As he should.
But you wanted him to keep fighting for you, didn't you?
It doesn't matter. I was gonna die anyway.
But I don't want to.
As I near the gallows, I can hear the hushed voices amidst the crowd. They're all looking at me like I wasn't one of them –ever. Some are angry, with bulging eyes and threatening glances, some are scared to the bone, physically shivering as they watch me in awe.
A yelp sways my attention, snapping my head to the woman who just yanked her daughter behind her. Still, her daughter – with her redhead glory, that gave away her stubbornness – tilts her head to watch me.
Her hair's a paint of viscous crimson. Like Anna.
Gosh, Anna.
Were she here, she probably would have held my hand as I walked to my doom, that is, if she couldn't do anything to stop it.
I wish Anna were here. I wish Dylan was here.
My chin raises slightly, vision hovering over the multitude gathered, looking for beautiful golden hair. I would give anything to see that golden hair, anything.
The guards behind me stop in their tracks, a painful dread that it's time. I look up at the rough-hewn timber. It's frame stand tall, a stark silhouette against the sky
A large pair of hands push me forward, a strand of hair sticks to my skin as I'm shoved up the small climb. The rough wood scrapes against my back as they push me forward. It smells like dried sweat and blood, I don't fight it when they grab my hands and tie them together right in front of me.
The sun is blinding up here, making the faces below seem like a blurring mess. Their murmurs cut through me. I know they hate me.
My legs are like a thousand pounds of silver, each step heavy and unwilling. I can hear the thud of my own heart, frantically beating against my chest, threatening to fall out any moment soon.
I try not to look at the rope, but it's there. A thick twisted thing, waiting, designed for the ending of lives.
Tears sting in my eyes as the moment settles in. The sun isn't helping either. If I could just see his golden hair again, just one more time, I would just —
Nothing Dina, you would do nothing.
Someone fumbles with the noose, the coarse fibre feels cold, a sharp contrast to the heat I feel within me. Yet, my feet don't shuffle against the wood when the rope is tightened against my neck.
I blink once, twice, but I cannot see anything. The tears blind my sight and I try to swallow but it's all tangled.
My lips tremble, the words utter out of my mouth before my brain registers. "Please…" it's hushed, way above the ears of the whispering crowd. No one can hear me.
I look left, right in a frantic mess. "Please…" it's still hushed, my entire body starts to tremble with fear. My feet shuffled against the wood, I strain my neck to look at the guard, softening my gaze so he wouldn't release the lock and let me fall to my death.
"Please…please," I'm a mess, heaving heavy breaths as I will soon realise how precious oxygen is. My hands are struggling to grasp something, anything.
The jolt is brutal, a sudden violent stop. My breath explodes from my lungs in a strangled gasp.
"Dylan." The word is strained, my legs are kicking the air, trying to fight for my survival.
Dots dance in my vision, a searing flash behind my eyes. Then, a crushing unbearable weight around my throat, choking, squeezing. My body swings, a clumsy pendulum dancing mid air. Sounds fade in and out — the jolt in my ear, the hushed tones of the crowd. My hands claw uselessly, trying to loosen the grip. There's a burning in my chest, a desperate need for air that will never come.
Then, the swaying slows, my limbs go numb, my body stops fighting my inevitable death. My eyes are teary, memories flash through my mind. A laugh, regret, Dylan.
I close my eyes, ready to meet the Griffin. Hopefully, he'd let me pass on to his silver abode. Because I did fight for Eldarda's survival, even though Grand Keeper Pael Juine never let me wear a silver badge, the Griffin sees, the Griffin knows.
My body falls helplessly into a buff, my ears ring, the sound floods in and I hear the crowd gasp harshly. I feel fingers frantically loosening the rope around my neck.
My head rests heavily on the buff, my eyes lazily open and I see those green eyes. It takes a moment, but when I glance up at that golden hair, I know I'm not mistaken.
"You came …" My words are weak, my throat rubs together in an uncomfortable friction.
His eyes are on me, never leaving. "Hold on heartbreaker," he says as he sways me gently in his arms. "Still need you to break more hearts before I let you go."
"I've never…"
"You have." He interrupts me immediately. A softening flashes in his green eyes and almost immediately, it's gone. Like nothing ever happened.
Is he carrying me? Am I not…heavy?
"Relax heartbreaker," his voice thread my brokenness. "I've got you. And no, you're not too heavy."
My lips churn upwards but it hurts to smile.
"Let her go, boy!" I know that gruff voice from anywhere. Dylan tears his eyes away from me and I just follow his gaze lazily to see grand keeper Pael Juine and his swarm of guards.
Dylan gently lowers me, hands steadying me until I can move my feet on the ground.
"Let her go, Dylan." It's the Lady Magnate, she's still, holding the gather of her yellow dress in her hands. Her rings are of the Emerald, a beautiful contrast to this day. "Let her go."
"No." Says Dylan, stepping ahead of me.
"She's condemned for all cause, boy!," Grand Keeper Pael Juine is all talk. "Let her go or I'll kill you myself and—"
"There will be none of that nonsense," the Lady Magnate steps forward, dress in hand as she walks the parted crowd. Her chin is raised like royalty, her walk is firm, unshakable. "This criminal is to be put to death, son."
"I will not stand for it, mother." Answers Dylan.
She sighs, throwing a straight glance at me and then to her son. "You defy my orders."
"And you don't listen to your son."
There's silence. It feels like gossip not I nor the crowd should be listening to.
"Very well," Lady Magnate steps forward, meeting her son's eyes. "You leave me no choice." She turns, walking away while signalling the guards to come to us.
Three guards draw their swords, a silver beauty, I believed once was for only werewolves. But just as they aim to launch, a red brick hits them, flinging their bodies to the ground. The crowd roars with a cry, running around at the sight of the blood gushing out from the crushed guards under the huge bricks.
My eyes widen as I look ahead. The council members look in the same direction, a certain fear in their eyes, especially Grand Keeper Pael Juine who shudders and hides behind a guard.
Dylan's gaze is a mix of fear and strength, like he could fight the beast.
The lycan walks towards us all, his fur shedding as his body morphes smaller. I can hear his bones cracking but it doesn't seem to faze him.
There's a smirk on his face as he stands naked in front of us all. My eyes remain glued to his face, regardless. He turns, grabbing a guard and ripping the long shirt off him to wrap his torso, covering his lover half but not reaching his knees.
Is this the show he was talking about?
I look back. The crowd is behind us all. Waiting, watching.
"What do you -"
The lycan grabs the daring guard by the neck, squeezing tightly until the guard's head dissociates from his body. The lycan stares at his hand, looking disgusted by the crimson liquid so he wipes it off on the clothing around his waist.
He points at me briefly and my breath hangs in my throat. "Let's go, mate."
Dylan squints his eyes. No doubt, wondering what the lycan meant when he said 'mate'.
"Let's go," he says calmly. "Or I'll erase Eldarda from the history books."